Bloody Rape Dolls VS The Living Dead
by MoonBear92
Summary: A "Return Of The Living Dead" fanfic, taking place out of the continuity and starring the characters from the 1985 film, and their punk rock band as they face off against the living dead.
1. Chapter 1

Written by Daniel H. Freezerburn.

This is a semi-fanfictional story including characters from the film "Return Of The Living Dead" that does not fit anywhere into the timeline or fictional universe.

"You ever think about getting killed?" said Trash, the girl punker extreme red hair-dye queen. Wearing little more than tights, boots, and a vest, she was no Barbie doll.

"I try not to think about dying..." said Corporal Ton L. Syndrome.

They sat atop the overpass looking down upon the highway at all the passing vehicles stuck in a traffic jam. Corporal Ton L. Syndrome was not actually anyone important, or even in the military. It was but a clever name he dubbed himself to mask the hollow shell of a human he was and give himself character. He sat with his face quadruple-pierced; nose to eyelid, ear to lip, lip to other ear, mouth to nose, chain-link connections to each facial cavity. His combat boots hung loosely over the edge of the overpass, dangling over a conga line of delivery trucks. He bore the jacket of a fallen soldier, iron-on patches of bands anywhere from Crass to Crucifucks, neither of which he had actually even heard. His undershirt, a purposely-ripped black wife beater. He wore the costume of a strong individualistic anarchist youth, but under it all, he was quite complacent with the way the world was and had no desire or drive to make any changes.

Trash threw a rock into the traffic and hit the roof of a Chevy truck. Corporal spit upon a convertible and hit the driver square on the head.

"Fucking yuppie. Fucking asshole. Look at them. Look at all the suits on the way to their fucking jobs, fucking capitalism. Fucking robots," Corporal said, gritting his teeth. He ran a hand through his spikey hair.

"You sure love four-letter words, don't you?" Trash replied. "And you don't really care, do you? I mean, you work at a fucking K-Mart."

"Hey, fuck you, bitch. It's a summer job. I gotta save up, you see? I gotta make some dough if I'm gonna make it in this fucked-up world," Corporal shouted, jaw jutting out like a living cartoon. He gave her a light shove, touching her breasts in the process.

"Feel anything you like?" Trash joshed. She got to her feet and wiped the non-existent dust from her pants. "Come on, let's ditch this pop stand."

"Where do you want to go?" Corporal said, angrily hitting the guard railing with his gloved hands. "There's nowhere to go in this wasteland."

"Aw, quit your whining and get your lazy ass up," Trash taunted.

They walked along the railroad tracks, nothing but trees on either side. Corporal stopped to take a piss while Trash picked her ear.

"I got this band thing today," Trash said. "You wouldn't like it, it's too raw for you."

Corporal zipped up his fly and came up behind Trash, grabbing her waist. "Too raw for me, eh? I like it raw."

"Oh right, needledick. Nice try," Trash pulled away from Corporal.

Trash met with her bandmates that day, who were already smacked out and nearly unconscious when she found them.

"Wake the fuck up, we have shit to do," Trash yelled, kicking the guitarist, Mofo, in the ribs.

They all hastily got to their feet and stretched their arms in unison.

"Trash, I was just dreaming about you," Freddy, the bassist, said. "You and Tina were standing on a pile of corpses."

Trash scoffed. "Yeah, I had a dream about you too. In it, you were a decent bassist."

Freddy gave Trash the finger.

"What are we doing?" the drummer, Devil, asked while yawning. He grabbed his sticks and started tapping the rim of the snare.

"Let's do 'Rape Bitch' and then go right into 'Vomit Face'," Trash said, grabbing the microphone off it's stand.

Trash noticed Tina on the floor by the furnace.

"What have we got here?" Trash asked Freddy.

"She wanted to try some and then she got sick," Freddy said.

"Alright, fuck, let's do it," Trash shouted. "One, two, three, four!"

Devil began drumming at around a billion beats per minute. Mofo and Freddy tore the shit out of their guitars. Trash let out her most guttural screams and yelps, firing out lyrics like a machine gun.

Tina twitched on the floor. She let out a whimper.

After a minute and thirty seconds the band had finished both songs.

"Alright, we sound like shit!" Trash said.

"I think we sounded great," Freddy said. He ran the pick up the fretboard.

Tina shook violently on the floor. Trash approached her and knelt down beside her twitching frame.

"I don't feel so good," Tina whispered. Trash sat Tina upright and looked into her eyes.

"You'll be alright," Trash said warmly. Freddy joined Trash and Tina on the floor and wrapped his jacket around Tina.

"We don't have fucking time for this!" Mofo shouted. "Did you forget we have a show this Friday?" He unplugged his guitar and set it against the wall.

Tina began drooling before ultimately vomiting directly onto Trash's chest.

"I'm sorry," Tina said. She began crying and buried her face in Freddy's arms.

"It's alright, I like the filth," Trash said. She removed her top completely, throwing it into the corner.

"It's getting hot in here!" Devil shouted from behind his drum set.

"I'm going to take her upstairs and get her cleaned off," Freddy said, promptly getting to his feet and hoisting Tina up into his arms. He disappeared up the stairs.

Meanwhile, down the street, a pickup truck swerved and nearly hit a dog. The driver, one Horacio Nunez, was intoxicated and hauling a top secret canister in the back. In this canister contained a petrified corpse covered in a strange chemical substance. Once Horacio made a hairy turn, the canister was propelled from the back of the truck and launched right at the very house where Trash and her band were practicing. The canister hit the garage door and popped right open, spilling out the gooey corpse and a puff of brown smoke. It took a while to happen, but as the sunlight shone bright upon the driveway, the corpse twitched. It twitched and it got to its feet. And where do you think it decided to go then?

Freddy was upstairs running the bath for Tina, who sat curled in a ball shivering in the center of the tub.

"It's going to be okay, Tina," he was saying as he ran the sponge over her pale body.

"I...just don't see why you guys would do that to yourselves," Tina managed to say.

"We're morons," Freddy said. "We're no good weasels."

Freddy heard footsteps coming up the stairs and Trash appeared at the bathroom door.

"Step aside, I'm getting in." She was fully naked except for a cross necklace. She pushed Freddy aside and climbed in the tub next to Tina.

"Oh, alright, whatever," Freddy said.

"I want bubbles in here. I don't see any bubbles," Trash demanded.

Freddy went to the cupboard and grabbed some shampoo.

"I dunno, try this," he said. He handed the bottle to Trash, who proceeded to pour a good portion of it onto Tina's tits.

"Oh, whoops. How'd that happen?" Trash said sarcastically. She ran her hands over Tina's chest, smearing the shampoo across her torso.

"Oh god, what are you doing?" Tina said, holding her head.

"What are you doing?" Trash responded. She leaned over and kissed Tina on the lips.

"Trash, come on," Freddy shouted. "Leave her alone, she's very sick!"

"We're all a little sick, Freddy. We're all a little twisted. I just let it show more," Trash laughed. She ran her index finger from Tina's chest down, past her belly button, between her legs.

"Hey, cut it out!" Freddy yelled, pulling Trash's hand away. "What's gotten into you?"

"I dunno, Freddy boy. Do you want to get into me?" Trash asked flirtatiously.

There was a loud knocking coming from the back door and everyone froze. In the basement, Mofo and Devil were jamming on their instruments.

Freddy got to his feet. "I'm gonna go see who that is," he said, and walked out.

"It better not be Corporal," Trash said to no one in particular. "I can't stand him right now."

Tina turned the temperature dial hotter and moved closer to the shower head.

Freddy opened the back door and peered outside. Not a person in sight. He ducked back inside and shut the door. That's when he heard the glass break and rushed into the front room, stopping dead in his tracks once he saw it. The corpse had broken in through the window and was picking itself up from the ground. When it saw Freddy, it bared its teeth, a full set mind you, and let out a wail.

"Shit," Freddy said. He bolted towards the open bathroom door. "This is serious, get dressed. We've got trouble."

-The Governor's Mansion, 3:34 PM-

Governor Riley sipped his hot coffee and flipped through the tabloids, looking for any mention of himself. After a few minutes, he set the paper and the cup on the side table and walked over to his desk. He opened a drawer and reached inside, pulling out a bag of white powder which he then proceeded to stick his face in. Then he took a big swig of bourbon and put everything back in the drawer.

There was a knock on the door, and Governor Riley sniffed and coughed before calling them in. The door swung open and General Farvers walked in.

"We lost it," General Farvers spoke grimly. "Somewhere along the way, we lost it."

"Who was carrying it?" Governor Riley asked, rubbing his nose.

General Farvers stepped into the hall and brought back by the arm Horacio, who looked like he'd seen better days. General Farvers through Horacio to the ground. Governor Riley jumped from behind his desk and stooped over Horacio, who lay in the fetal position on top of the Governor's decorative persian rug.

"Where'd you lose it, boy?" Governor Riley asked sternly, giving Horacio a light kick. "I want answers!"

Horacio choked on his words but managed to mumble, "I don't remember."

Governor Riley looked over at General Farvers, they nodded, and the General lifted Horacio to his feet, holding his arms behind him. The Governor took a swing at Horacio and hit him square in the jaw, blood drooling from his mouth.

"Where is it, hombre?" the Governor shouted.

"I told you, I don't know. I had it, then it was gone," Horacio insisted.

Horacio was thrown against the desk, his arms twisted behind him.

"I trusted you with it, Nunez," Governor Riley said, leaning down so his face was level with Horacio's. "You gave me your word you would get it safely over to the plant. Why would you disrespect me like that?"

"I don't know, sir. I swear, I wouldn't lie to you," Horacio cried, squinting his eyes.

Governor Riley nodded to General Farvers, who put his boot up onto Horacio's back, still grabbing both his arms and pulling hard.

"If you don't tell us where it is, you and your family will be really sorry," Governor Riley said as he pulled a rifle out of the top drawer of the desk.

Trash and Tina scrambled to get dressed. Freddy was in the bedroom down the hall looking for a blunt object. The corpse stumbled and limped down the hall toward the bathroom door, oozing from the mouth.

"Shit," Freddy grunted, pushing through the mess of hoarded decoratives on the bedroom table. He spotted a ceramic gnome statuette and grabbed it, running back into the hallway.

Tina and Trash exited the bathroom at the same time Freddy reached the opened doorway. The corpse was only a few feet away. Freddy raised his arm and smashed the gnome statuette into the corpse's head, driving it deep inside its skull. The corpse backed away a few steps, grabbing its head and trying to figure out what had just happened to it.

Tina bolted from the bathroom and pushed past the zombie, running down into the basement to warn Devil and Mofo.

The corpse looked Freddy dead in the eyes and smiled.

"Eat shit," Freddy said, dodging past the corpse. It tried to latch onto Freddy's arm but he was too quick for the undead monstrosity. That's when it saw Trash, who had moved back into the bathroom and was trying to open the window, which was built in such a way so that it only opened a certain amount.

The corpse lumbered into the room, stopping a few feet away from Trash and looking her up and down. Trash was trying to muster a scream but sound would not escape. In the garage she could hear Freddy knocking things over, probably trying to look for some kind of weapon.

The corpse reached out and grabbed Trash by the collar of her vest and pulled her towards him. She flailed and kicked but the corpse pulled her still closer.

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Freddy, in the back of the garage, grabbed an axe. He ran back into the house.

The corpse was holding Trash close to himself. She covered her eyes. She couldn't look at it. She could hear it breathing, its lungs filled with fluid. She felt its cold, wet hands touching her skin. It removed its left hand from her arm and felt it moving down her side to her waist.

Freddy came running down the hall with the axe raised high. He turned in the doorway of the bathroom, saw the corpse, and drove the axe into its back. The corpse turned around, letting go of Trash for a second, then pushed Freddy from the room and closed the door. It turned the lock. Freddy got up and tried to open it but it was no use.

"Fuck you!" Freddy screamed, wiggling the door handle.

The corpse turned back towards Trash, who had backed into the far wall by the window. It limped over to where she was standing, grabbed her with gusto, and sat her on the toilet seat. She made not a sound as the corpse tore her tights off, exposing bare flesh. Trash squirmed, but the corpse was strong and held her in place.

She finally opened her eyes to see it standing over her, bones showing through its rotting skin, its brown and green ooze-covered zombie cock pulsating. She wanted to scream, but couldn't even make a damn sound.

Freddy began hitting the door with the axe, huge over the shoulder swings that only nicked off small chunks of the thick wooden door. He could hear the corpse on the other side grunting and wheezing.

The corpse took its free hand, covered in chemical goop, and rubbed Trash's cunt, sticking its bloated fingers in and pulling them out. She closed her eyes again and bit her lip. Freddy kept swinging the axe at the door. Trash surprisingly found herself getting wet. The corpse took its hand away and grabbed its slimey cock, which had grown to an absurdly large length. He drove it into Trash's pussy, all the way in until there was nothing left. Trash shivered. It was so cold, like a marble slab caked in gelatin. The corpse pulled out and then drove his cock into her again. With its free hand, it ran its fingers over her tits, leaving a trail of slime behind. Faster and faster it pumped into her.

Freddy continued to hack away at the door, creating a small hole. He peered through and his jaw dropped.

"You fucking monster bastard!" he shouted, and swung the axe at the hole he had created, chipping off more wood.

The zombie lifted trash off the toilet, his cock buried deep inside her, and leaned her against the sink. It grabbed her leg and lifted it up under its arm as he fucked her harder and faster, dripping chemical sludge on the tile floor. Trash finally mustered a scream. She felt limp and weak, felt the corpse pumping inside her, hitting her clit each time. The corpse moved faster and faster. A loud squishing noise echoed through the room each time he entered her pussy. Trash felt extremely numb throughout most of her body.

She tried to escape the reality in her mind, picturing happy thoughts, a song she was working on. She hummed it in her head, "Fuck all you lying whores, fuck your designer stores, don't care about fighting wars, blood seeping from my pores."

She imagined herself as a child, but the calm vision was tainted and she saw her young self being chopped to pieces by her father with an axe. Her childhood lost and forgotten, her dignity spoiled, her eyes filled with tears, her mind filled with sudden fears. She felt her once strong demeanor fading away, her air supply shortening, her body aching and shaking like a seizure that would never end.

She closed her eyes as the corpse came inside her, but it kept coming out as if it were being released with extreme pressure. The corpse pulled out and sprayed Trash in the face with his semen. It just kept coming until there was nothing left inside him. Trash felt sick. Her vision was blank. Her stomach churned.

Freddy reached through the hole in the door he had created and unlocked the door, busting it open. The corpse stood dizzily in the center of the room. A foul odor radiated through the room, that of rotting flesh and bodily fluids. Trash was covered in zombie jizz and green ooze. She fell to the ground. Freddy charged furiously at the corpse and sliced off its head in one swift move. The head ricocheted off the back wall and landed in the bathtub. The body continued to walk around in circles, blood spewing from the neck stump. Freddy kicked the headless body and it fell backwards into the bathtub.

Freddy picked Trash up off the ground and carried her out of the room. She was unconscious. He shut the door behind him and brought Trash into the basement. He let her down onto the couch and alerted the others.

"Mofo, get Trash some towels and maybe a blanket," Freddy said, breathing heavily. He turned to Tina. "Keep her company, I'm going to go take care of that thing."

Mofo ran to the laundry dryer and grabbed a few towels as Freddy paced up the steps. Tina was in hysterics.

Freddy swung himself around the bathroom door frame. The corpse was standing upright, holding its severed head in one hand, trying to compose itself and move forward. Blood stained nearly every surface, red smears along the walls and the sink and the toilet seat. Its head twitched and its lips curled into a smile.

"Brains!" it spoke in a gravelly voice, its free hand grabbing at the air.

Freddy grabbed the axe off the hallway floor and gripped it tightly. He lunged at the corpse and drove the axe into the corpse's shoulder, severing the arm. The corpse's head roared as the arm holding it fell to the ground. Freddy swung again, driving the blade into the corpse's abdomen. He pulled it out and swung again, hitting the corpse in the chest. The head shook and gyrated on the floor, its eyes rolling up in the sockets.

Freddy pulled the axe away and backed up into the hall. He ran back to the garage and frantically searched for something else to use, something more severe. He knocked everything off of the work table, screwdrivers and wrenches galore. In the back of the garage, beside the work table, he spotted a can of gasoline. He hesitated at first, but the image of the monster brutalizing Trash flashed through his mind, temporarily blinding him. He grabbed the can and rushed back into the house. When he reached the bathroom, the corpse's body was swaying back and forth, its left arm holding the severed right arm, which was still grasping the head. Freddy didn't even think. He splashed the gasoline onto the corpse. He stepped back, took out a matchbook from his jean pocket, and lit it. He tossed the match onto the corpse and it went up in flames. Freddy shut the bathroom door and heard the corpse screaming in agony.

He joined the others in the basement. "How's Trash doing?" he said, breathing hard.

Mofo was sitting beside her on the couch, holding her in the blanket and rocking with her.

"She's in shock," he said.

Tina was crying and ran towards Freddy, embracing him. Freddy wiped the sweat off his forehead. From upstairs he could still hear it screaming.

-3 Months Later-

The Bloody Rape Dolls got a show at some dingy club 30 miles from home, one of the only venues of its kind in Kentucky. Rusty's Garage it was called. Many local bands had played there since the 70s, anyone from The Gnomes to The Fuckheads, none of them were any good. The club's sign was weather-damaged and covered in spray-painted graffiti. A group of no-good skinheads waited outside the door. Spread liberally amongst the crowd were the usual airheads, new-wavers, and mods, all waiting patiently to be let in. Surrounding the club's exterior were small businesses, one-story buildings with dated signs and broken windows barred-up. A derelict pushing a shopping cart added spice to the scene, crossing right in front of the club only to be harassed by the clubgoers.

Trash, Mofo, Freddy, Devil and Tina stood across the street from the club. Tina held her Panasonic camcorder. She was going to document this event, visual evidence it even happened. The band themselves were surprised they got a gig, not even having recorded a decent demo.

"Tina, get a shot of us outside the club," Mofo said. He ran out into the middle of the street and waved at Tina. Freddy, Trash and Devil joined him in the street as Tina rolled the camera. They waved awkwardly and motioned towards the club like Vanna White.

"There's sound, you can talk," Tina said from behind the camera.

"Oh, well then," Trash said. "We're here at Rusty's Garage to play a fucking rock show and get paid."

"We're actually here to piss off rednecks and airheads and get laid," Devil said.

"Okay, I think we're good," Tina said, stopping the camera and putting the lens cap on.

The group headed inside the club, pushing past the riff raff. The club was empty save for a few bartenders and waitresses hanging around the bar. The stage was lit with multi-colored lights, a moderately sized stage about four feet off the ground. The floor was covered in cigarette butts from the previous show. The band jumped on stage and grabbed the instruments from their stands, which were all ready and set up for them.

"How convenient, I feel like a real rock star," Trash said sarcastically. She went up to the microphone in the center of the stage and screamed into it, her voice echoing throughout the whole room.

"Can you guys test the other mics?" came a voice from the mixing booth in the back of the room.

Mofo and Freddy began speaking into the microphones on either side of the stage.

"Hey, Freddy, how's it going?" Mofo said, his voice erupting from the amps on each corner of the room.

"Oh, thanks for asking, Mofo. I'm doing great. I'm about to play a show," Freddy said, laughing.

"Really? Tell me how that goes!" Mofo replied.

"You guys are fucking geeks," Trash said into her microphone.

"Alright," said the sound guy. "How's that sound for you guys?"

"Just fine and dandy, sir!" Freddy said in a mock polite voice.

Tina stood in the empty mosh pit and got a shot of the band tuning up. One of the club's bartenders approached her and tried chatting her up.

"Are you part of the band?" he asked, his bearded face smiling.

"No, I'm just filming," Tina replied, still looking through the viewfinder.

"You wanna come join me over here?" the man said, pointing to a dimly-lit spot by the bar.

"No thanks, that's my boyfriend up there," Tina said.

The man turned and walked away.

The band warmed up, played one or two abridged songs, Freddy asked for more low end on the bass. Trash wasn't looking too swell, and from the mosh pit Tina noticed she didn't seem her usual self. The events three months prior really took a toll on her, Tina thought. The lighting didn't do much to hide the dead look in Trash's face, and under the green strobe she resembled a ghoul.

Tina went over to the bar and ordered a coke while the bouncers let the riff raff in. They spread themselves out across the mosh pit until Tina could barely see her friends on stage. She took her coke into the crowd that was forming and weaseled her way towards the front, camera in hand. She stood stage left, by a large speaker. That could become a problem if things get too loud, she thought. She chugged down her coke and set the cup on the edge of the stage, then swung the camcorder onto her shoulder and turned it on.

Through the viewfinder, she watched Trash as she stood there on stage, eying the audience with comical intensity like a general inspecting his troops. Trash swayed subtly from side to side, side to side, looking almost nauseous as she watched the crowd growing. Freddy had his guitar turned down and was playing something inaudible. Mofo was kneeling on the stage floor tuning his guitar, and Devil was sitting behind his kit not doing much at all. He looked nervous, they all looked nervous. They looked weak, afraid, helpless, small. Tina became overtaken by anxiety on their behalf, imagining a crowd of disapproving hecklers booing them off stage. She lowered the camcorder from her eye and bit her lip.

"Tina!" she heard from within the crowd. She looked around through all the Mohawks and back-combed hairdos for the source of the voice. She saw bodies being shoved aside and a familiar face emerged. It was Scuzz in his usual attire; Mohawk, trench coat, Doc Martins, fingerless leather gloves. She wouldn't have even noticed him amongst the crowd had he not approached her first.

"Hey, Scuzz," Tina said, her voice sounding concerned, still thinking about the Bloody Rape Dolls.

"What's happening?" he said, his head bobbing up and down to a rhythm that did not exist.

Tina didn't really feel like talking. "I'm filming!" she said.

"Oh, cool. Cool. This is going to be fucking amazing, right!" Scuzz said enthusiastically, using his arms to emphasize his statement.

Tina laughed nervously. "Uh, yeah," she said, smiling crookedly. "It's going to really rock."

Scuzz kept bobbing his head and drumming in the air. He seemed hyped up on something. His eyes were darting every which way. Tina lifted the camcorder onto her shoulder and pretended to be filming something until Scuzz finally got bored and disappeared into the crowd, shouting something to Tina as he went.

Tina heard microphone feedback and looked up on stage. A tall, thin man in rather inappropriately dressy clothes tapped the microphone, Trash standing idly by his side.

"Welcome, everyone," the man said loudly. He had the geekiest, most adolescent voice. "I have a few announcements I'd like to make before we get going here."

Somebody from the audience shouted some expletives, which prompted a few others to join in.

"Please, let me just get this out of the way," the man said into the microphone, his voice cracking. "We've got two great local bands here tonight, but there are a few things I'd like to say."

"Get on with it!" a voice called from the audience.

"Wednesday we've got a raffle, so be sure to get your raffle tickets by the door. Secondly..." the man went on, but Tina stopped listening. She was watching Trash. God, she didn't look good at all.

"...Wet T-shirt contest, and the winner will receive a Rusty's all access pass good for 4 more nights..."

Trash was standing awkwardly, leaning to one side with her legs crossed. She coughed into her hand and then wiped her lips with her arm. Freddy and Mofo were making gestures at the crowd, and Tina wondered if they noticed how ill Trash looked.

"...Nobody wants that, now do we? No. Refrain from pushing or hitting others. This is not a place for violence..."

Tina started up the camcorder and put the viewfinder to her eye. She recorded a panning shot of the crowd, then zoomed up to the talking thin man and then Trash, who had her eyes closed.

"Thanks for your patience," the man said, "Now here's...The Bloody Rape Dolls!"

He walked offstage, leaving the band alone and looking like frightened tree-dwelling critters, eyes-wide.

Trash stepped up to the microphone and took it off its stand, speaking into it.

"You people sicken me. Look at yourselves. You're just as bad as the ones you're making a statement against. You're followers, nothing but a bunch of sheep in uniforms," Trash said aggressively, walking along the edge of the stage.

Devil hit his sticks together four times and they began blasting away, a loud wall of sound with Trash's shrill and insistent vocals. Tina made sure to get good coverage of both the crowd reaction and the band itself. Trash moved around the stage like a pinball, bouncing from each corner. Freddy was jumping around too, and by comparison Mofo was as still as a statue. Devil looked like a blur he was moving so fast. Somebody climbed on stage and tried to grab Trash, but she kicked them with her boots and they returned to the mosh pit.

The song ended, everyone on stage looking exhausted. The crowd shouted in approval. Tina smiled. They sounded great! She removed her eye from the viewfinder to witness the madness of the crowd.

All of a sudden, Trash doubled over and fell to the ground, dropping the microphone which sent a cascading wave of reverb throughout the venue.

The crowd calmed down. Freddy and Mofo dropped their instruments and ran to Trash's aid. Tina surveyed the room as the crowd began to talk amongst themselves, a mesh of incoherent mumbling. Tina heard two eccentrically-dressed moshers discussing the event.

"Oh, what a drama queen," the one said to the other.

"She's probably a fucking junkie. What a loser," said the other.

Tina turned off the camcorder and set it off her shoulder.

Mofo grabbed the mic and spoke into it, pacing back and forth.

"Uh, hold on everyone. Just a minute here, we have a problem."

A figure came bolting from the back of the room and grabbed Tina by the arm. She spun around to see Corporal Ton L. Syndrome.

"This is fucking nuts! Best show I've ever seen!" he laughed.

"I don't think this is very funny, I think she's hurt!" Tina said, unamused by his amusement.

Tina watched as Devil got up from behind his kit and knelt down beside Trash's unconscious body. Freddy and Mofo were checking all over for some semblance of life, touching her neck and wrists. They looked at one another and Tina could see them talking, and they didn't look happy.

"Oh, god. They're really dragging this shit out!" Corporal said, craning his neck to get a better look. Tina looked worriedly from Corporal to the stage before handing him the camcorder.

"Here, take this," she said, and then climbed up on stage to join the others.

When she approached, Freddy looked up with a panic-stricken grimace on his face.

"No pulse," he said. "She's not breathing."

"Maybe we're not checking it right," Devil said hopefully.

Mofo jumped to his feet, grabbing the microphone to alert the crowd.

"Somebody call a paramedic, we need help right now!" he shouted in a quavery voice.

Tina choked and began crying. She knelt down next to Trash's lifeless body and cradled her head.

Freddy put his arm around Tina and lifted her to her feet.

"Don't look, don't look. We should move away," he said urgently as he lead Tina to the corner of the stage where Corporal stood in the pit.

"You guys are psychos!" Corporal laughed, shaking his head. "Fuck, man!"

"Shut up, Lance!" Freddy said sternly, holding Tina's sobbing head against his chest.

"Hey fuck you, man. My name's not Lance," Corporal said.

"Look man, somebody's hurt. Show some fucking respect," Freddy shot back.

"Bitch fell down, don't get your panties in a bunch!" Corporal said. He didn't seem worried at all, which Freddy found strange as almost everyone knew Corporal had a serious thing for Trash.

"What's your damage, man? Why don't you make yourself useful and call for help?" Freddy said, shocked at the man's audacity.

"Oh, we got a tough guy here!" Corporal chuckled, clapping his hands. "Why don't you come down here, tough guy, and we'll see how tough you really are?"

"Get bent, Lance. I have more important things to worry about," Freddy said, leading Tina towards the opposite end of the stage.

"Please, somebody help! We've got a man...er...woman down here!" Mofo was pleading, grabbing his shaved head in distress. Devil was still on his knees inspecting Trash.

Someone from the audience shouted, "Performance artist fags!"

Another faceless voice called, "Junkie whore!"

Devil got to his feet and grabbed the microphone away from Mofo. "Hey, who said that?" he yelled, a look of incredible anger on his face.

A young kid about 15 came forward from the darkness. "I did, you fat piece of shit! What are you gonna do?"

Devil grunted and dropped the microphone, kneeling back down beside Trash.

Corporal was eating this up, laughing hysterically.

"Somebody..." Mofo began, but his voice was not heard. He grabbed the mic off the ground and spoke. "Somebody phone the hospital!"

The audience's whispers had grown to literally a dull roar like that of an old furnace. Somebody threw a sneaker at the stage which hit Mofo directly in the forehead. He ducked as another shoe was thrown.

Devil looked up, his eyes glowing. "She's moving! I feel her breathing!" he shouted.

Mofo put the mic in its stand and rushed over. Freddy followed, leaving Tina sobbing in the corner.

"Feel, feel!" Devil said frantically. He grabbed Freddy's hand and placed it on Trash's abdomen. Indeed, it was moving, but Freddy wasn't very pleased.

"That's not her breathing, back up!" he shouted, grabbing the two others as he jumped to his feet.

Trash's stomach began to grow, like a balloon being inflated. Freddy, Devil and Mofo stood speechless a few feet away, watching this volcanic growth stretch and shake. Trash's feet started to kick, a nerve spasm. Blood was seeping out from her belly button.

"What the fuck is that?" Mofo screamed a high pitch scream. The growth was beginning to tear the skin.

With a loud bang, her stomach burst open, splattering the three with blood and entrails. Out from within Trash's chest cavity crawled three deformed, little mutant babies drenched in stomach bile and ooze. They fell to the floor and stretched their bodies before biting off their own umbilical cords with their little sharp teeth.

To be continued in Part 3!...


	3. Chapter 3

Freddy, Devil and Mofo stood in total horror as the three mutant zombie babies writhed on the stage floor after having chewed off their own umbilical cords as if they were made of licorice.

The crowd was in a panic, a riot had ensued and many casualties were taken from being stepped on by frightened moshers scrambling to get out. Corporal stood holding his head and deciding how exactly he should be reacting. He actually had to think about it. He laughed nervously as numerous gutter punks shoved him aside, shouting unintelligible phrases. He felt a strange emotion, a hybrid of both sadness and hysteria.

His eyes focused on Trash's gutted and torn-open body and the three little demons beside it and he decided he's channel everything he was feeling into the rather manageable expression of extreme rage. He went over to the far wall and punched the neon sign with "Rusty's" lit up in multi-colors. It shattered against his fist, cutting deep into his knuckles, giving him an instant shock upon impact.

"What the hell are they?" Devil shrieked.

"Zombie babies," Freddy said coolly, composing himself well.

One of the babies lunged into the crowd, sinking it's little shark teeth into a mod's head, biting the scalp from the skull. The mod shrieked and struggled to get the baby off. It grasped onto his scalp by grabbing both ears, then vomited green slime into his eyes. He fell to the floor, baby and all.

The mutant baby took another bite of the skull, piercing through it and breaking it like an eggshell while the second baby lunged at Devil. The second baby hung on by Devil's shirt, climbing up to the top of the head and puncturing the skull with its surprisingly strong arms.

"Fuckin' hell!" Devil shouted before falling over rather dead. When his head hit the stage floor it split open, spilling brain matter onto Freddy and Mofo's shoes. The second baby cooed in delight and began devouring it before Mofo and Freddy kicked it off. It went flying through the air and landed on a fat pig's shoulder, and the chain continued.

"We've got to make a run for it," Freddy said, pacing back to Tina. He, Mofo and Tina jumped from the stage. Tina stepped in the mod's blood and nearly attracted the first baby's attention. The three ran to the front of the club, pushing past the last dozen clubgoers. The mod stood up, contaminated and resurrected as a mindless corpse with only one objective: to find and eat brains.

The third baby catapulted from the stage and nearly hit a bouncer but hit the wall instead. Devil rose to his feet, contaminated and zombified. Bits of brain matter fell from his cracked-open head. Trash's corpse got to its feet, its stomach and intestines falling from the giant hole in its stomach. The two living dead inductees climbed down from the stage and ran towards the front of the club, where all the fresh meat was on its way out.

Tina tripped and fell to the floor and Mofo and Freddy failed to notice as they made their way out the front doors.

"Hey you guys!" called a familiar voice from outside. Freddy stopped amongst the fleeing crowd to look around. He saw only one other person besides himself and Mofo not running, and that person was none other than Spider, the only black punk in Kentucky. Spider pushed past a few young kids and approached the two.

"I don't know what those things are in their, but we gotta end this shit before it gets dangerous," Spider said frantically, bouncing up and down like a boxer in the ring.

Tina was the only one left in the club as the two fresh corpses and the three newborn mutant babies drew in closer. She buckled in fear, her joints seizing up. She crawled past the ticket booth and towards the front doors.

"Where's Tina?" Freddy shouted, looking around on his toes.

"Shit! We must've lost her," Mofo said, acting more concerned than he really was when in fact all he wanted to do was get out of dodge completely.

Freddy began running towards the club doors. "I'm going back!" he called, knocking one of the doors open.

"I ain't never seen anything like those suckers in there," Spider said, shaking his head in astonishment.

Inside the club, Tina had reached the ticket booth and was attempting to use the counter as a balance as she got to her feet slowly but surely. The mutant freaks entered the ticket room just as Freddy barged in through the door. Trash lunged for Tina, but Freddy put out his arm and knocked her down, grabbing Tina with the other.

"Let's scram!" he yelled, kicking the front door open and exiting. They met up with Spider and Mofo in the street.

"Wait up!" came a voice from the darkness. Scuzz ran out into the spotlight cast by a street lamp, stopped, and then sprinted over to the others.

They all began running, getting as far away from the club as they could. Spider looked back and saw Trash, the mod, a bartender, and the two mutant babies shooting towards them. For someone with half their insides missing, Trash ran like a gazelle, followed by the two other zombie freaks. Spider looked back at the group as they picked up speed, and he began running faster, faster, until his knees started to ache. Ahead of the group were the rest of the clubgoers, running top speed with arms flailing exaggeratedly.

"We need to get back to my house!" Freddy said, his arm around Tina as he ran.

The night was pitch black and aside from the one street lamp near the club, there was very little light. The apartment complexes looked like giant monoliths whooshing past.

Up ahead, one of the clubbers was running backwards before he stopped and let the group catch up to him. It was Corporal, and he was holding the camcorder. He began running alongside the group.

"I thought somebody should document this, this is fucking crazy shit!" he said, his voice rough and breathy from physical activity.

"We need to get somewhere where they can't get us," Freddy said.

Trash and the zombie freaks were catching up. Freddy turned a corner at a three-way intersection and the group followed. They were in the business district, a supermarket and various shops lined the streets illuminated only by the dim moonlight.

"Right there, the light's on!" Spider shouted. He was pointing out a shop up ahead which appeared to be open still.

The group reached the shop and began banging on the doors and windows.

"Let us in!" Scuzz shouted through the glass.

It was a hardware store, shelves and shelves of power tools stretched deep into the room and an older man came walking out from one of the aisles, a hand atop his grey head.

"We're open! We're open!" the man said. He opened the door himself to demonstrate, and the group crammed inside. Freddy shut the door behind them.

"What's going on?" the man asked, obviously pretty flustered.

"The maniacs! There's these...things!" Tina spit out, shaking in fright.

"Yeah," Freddy said, then looked at the man's name badge. "Look, Harold, we need to board up the windows and doors right now!"

"Things? What are you crazy kids talking about?" Harold asked frustratedly.

"Mister, we just saw two dead people get back up. And these little mutant babies were biting people's skulls..." Spider shouted.

"Yeah, biting the skulls and eating their brains!" Tina screamed.

Harold put his hands on his overall straps. "I think you kids are messing around with that magic dust a little too much," he said gruffly.

Right then, the three zombies threw themselves against the windows and doors, a baby on each one's shoulder. Freddy ran to the door and held it shut, followed by Spider.

"Mister, get something to hold this shut, quick!" Freddy shouted. Trash was pushing with all her undead might.

Harold stood in shock for a few seconds letting it seep into his brain. Then he ran into one of the aisles and came back with a shovel. He put the shovel's handle through the door handles and Freddy and Spider backed away.

Corporal was filming the whole thing, his mouth ajar in disbelief.

"Man, put that down!" Scuzz said, hitting the camcorder with his hand.

"I need to document this. Nobody's going to believe this shit!" Corporal said, peering through the viewfinder.

"Jesus Christ, what are they?" Harold asked again.

"They're walking dead, corpses," Freddy said. He seemed to know about this, as if he was prepared. "You ever seen that movie 'Night Of The Living Dead'?"

Harold's eyes darted around. "That was a movie, this is real!" he said.

"You're damn right this is real," Spider said, breathing heavily.

"Come on, we have to block the windows and doors," Freddy said frantically.

"Alright, there's some plywood in the back aisle..." Harold said. He was confused but he certainly didn't want those things in his shop.

A few of the guys went back and grabbed a few pieces of plywood and enough hammer and nails to cover the windows. They began hammering away into the frames. Corporal grabbed some footage of the barricade being built. Tina stood and watched through the glass door as Trash, the mod, and Devil pounded away. Freddy put a big piece of wood over the section of door, blocking them from sight.

"Hand me another piece!" Freddy yelled, putting the last few nails in the wood.

Harold ran to the back of the store and grabbed a few more sheets of plywood and handed them to Freddy and Spider. They began whacking nails into the boards until the whole wall was covered in wood.

"That should do it for now," Spider said, wiping sweat from his forehead.

Freddy took off his jacket and tied the sleeves around his waist. Corporal stopped filming.

"This is fucking crazy, man. What are we going to do, man!" Scuzz cried.

"We just have to wait it out. You got a phone?" Freddy said.

Harold nodded. "Yeah, behind the counter."

Freddy hopped the counter and begin dialing the police on the rotary phone. He waited as the phone rang. Tina bit her lip.

"Hello?" Freddy said into the receiver. He waited for a response. "Hello, we need help over here at..." He looked up at Harold from the counter.

Harold stuttered, "McGuffin's Hardware."

"...McGuffin's Hardware, it's in the city right by that club, Rusty's Garage..." Freddy told the operator. "It's an emergency, there are living corpses trying to get us. One of my friends is dead. Hello?"

Freddy looked up at each person in the room. "They hung up," he said solemnly.

From inside the shop one could hear the corpses outside still knocking.

"What are we going to do? They're still out there!" Tina sobbed, clutching herself.

"I think we should all grab something to fight them with," Spider said.

"Is there a back exit in here?" Freddy asked Harold.

"Uh, yeah," Harold replied.

"Where's it lead?"

"Leads to the back alley. Why?"

Freddy stopped, breathed, and thought it out. "We need to get to the police station."

Scuzz flipped out and slammed his fist on the counter. "That's on the other side of town, man! Are you nuts?"

"Would you rather stay in here, boarded up? And wait for those things to break through?" Freddy shot back.

"I agree with Freddy, let's get the fuck out of here," said Mofo, who'd been silent up until then. He stood in back of everyone, gripping a large scythe. "We don't stand a chance in here, guys."

"Then let's get our asses out there before those dead fuckers catch on!" Spider said, running towards the back of the shop.

"Uh, young man, I've got to unlock it first!" Harold called back, jangling the keys in the air.

Mofo, Harold, Scuzz, and Corporal ran to the back of the shop and stood by the door, which read "Fire Exit" on a faded sticker. Tina stood staring at Freddy, who came out from behind the counter to comfort her.

"It's gonna be alright, Tina. Just stay by my side," Freddy assured.

Tina shook her head, choking back tears. "Okay," she whimpered. They walked hand-in-hand to the back door as Harold was turning the key.

Everyone had taken a tool of some sort; Scuzz had a pitchfork, Corporal had a spade, Spider and Harold had shovels. As Freddy approached the others he grabbed two axes off the shelf; one for Tina and one for himself. The corpses were making progress on the makeshift barricades, knocking the plywood loose from the window frames.

Harold opened the back door. A cool gust of wind rushed in, and a family of dead leaves kicked across the alleyway like little night creatures.

"Quick! Go, go," Harold urged, shooing the group. One by one they exited. The corpses ceased their assault on the front of the shop and looked curiously around the side of the building, watching the silhouettes of the gang making their way out.

"Go around," the Trash corpse said to her mates.

The group walked quietly in succession through the alley and out onto the street.

"The police station is that way, come on," Freddy said, pointing down the street to the left.

They began to walk faster, on the brink of a jog. The air was silent and the street illuminated only by moonlight and the occasional street lamp. Aside from a few parked cars, the road was completely vacant.

"How far away is that place anyway?" Scuzz asked, visibly nervous.

"Just a few more blocks, keep going," Freddy urged. Scuzz sighed and kicked the ground.

"Man, those fucking things are going to get us!" he squealed, turning around to look at the rest of the group. "Did you see how fast they ran? We're fucked!"

"Man, cool it," Spider said, swinging his shovel at Scuzz and stopping it right next to his head. "You're gonna get us killed if you keep shouting like that!"

Tina walked cautiously, looking back constantly, hugging her arms and biting her lip. She walked faster to catch up with the rest of the group, who were all walking at breakneck speed.

"Hold on a second, I gotta get this on tape," Corporal said, laughing. He tucked the spade underneath his armpit and put the camcorder up to his eye. He spoke to Spider, walking alongside him, pointing the lens in his face. "What's happening now?"

Spider looked into the lens without turning his head. "What the fuck do you think is happening, man? We're getting our asses to the police station and those zombies are riding our tails. Now get that fucking thing outta my face!"

He pushed the camera away and Corporal turned it off.

"Jesus, man. Careful, man. This thing's expensive!" Corporal said in a shaken voice.

"Yeah, well then watch it," Spider shot back, putting a fist out in front of Corporal's face. "Nobody likes your ass, so you better watch it if you want to make it there safely."

"We have to cut through the train station," Freddy said, matter-of-factly and with little emotion. He looked concentrated and focused, barely phased by the ordeal. But he knew where they were going and how to get there. He walked up ahead of everyone, leaving Tina in the back of the group.

"Look, we got our own Magellan here, guys!" Mofo said playfully. He was standing next to Tina and during his wild gestures accidentally brushed his hand across her breasts. She looked at him, and he seemed to notice what he had done and looked away. Tina ran ahead to catch up with Freddy.

"Nice going, man! Radical!" Corporal whispered to Mofo, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Fuck off, Lance," Mofo replied with a snarl.

"Why don't you make me, rock star?" Corporal laughed, motioning with his spade in the air.

"Why don't you grow the fuck up, Lance?" Mofo growled. He knew Corporal hated to be called by his real name.

"Fuck you, pretty boy. I'm two years older than you, asswipe," Corporal shouted, stopping in his tracks and grabbing Mofo by the shirt collar.

Freddy noticed the situation and quickly broke it off. "If we want to make it alive we have to stick together. So knock it off!" he said, walking backwards to look the two in the eyes.

"Yeah, alright, whatever you say, Captain," Corporal said sarcastically, letting go of Mofo's shirt.

They reached an intersection and stopped to let an old Cadillac pass, the driver waving politely as he drove by. The group crossed the street and neared the stairway leading to the train station.

"It looks empty," Spider said, shivering. "Too empty, like there's some shady shit happening up there..."

They climbed the stairway to the top, where they noticed just how deserted the station was. Snickers wrappers, newspaper, plastic cups all lined the station floor. A plastic bag skipped across the tracks, hitting a flattened cardboard box.

"This is spooky," Tina said, looking around.

"Don't worry, we're fine," Freddy assured, though in fact he wasn't so sure.

"Isn't this the station where those guys got stabbed last month?" Spider asked nervously.

"Nah, man. That was a hoax," Corporal insisted, grinning at the prospect of any sort of violence taking place where he now stood.

"What do you know anyway?" Scuzz said, his eyebrows lowered. "It was on the news, man. It happened right here."

"I think we're fine, guys. We have to keep going before those things catch up to us," said Freddy, walking up ahead.

The group followed, weaving around the scattered garbage and past the ticket counter. The lights which lined the tracks had gone out, albeit a few which flickered on and off at random intervals.

Tina fell back, letting the group pass ahead. She ran back to the stairway and looked down at the streets below. In the distance, she spotted them. The corpses were walking, slowly but surely, towards the station, the little mutant babies hitching a ride on their shoulders. Tina's eyes widened and she ran back to the group.

"You guys, they're coming!" she whispered. "They're catching up!"

Freddy looked back at her. "You saw them?"

"Yes, I saw them down the street, they're coming right here!" Tina shrieked, grabbing her face in a rather vaudevillian expression of fear.

Freddy stopped moving, prompting the group to do the same. It became chillingly silent.

"What are we doing?" Spider asked in a tone which implied distrust.

"We have to be really quiet, nobody talk or anything," Freddy said, himself feeling gradually more paranoid.

They heard footsteps, actual footsteps coming from the metal stairway. It was the only audible sound, and it was surely approaching. Clank, clank, clank. Like a knife hitting a pan.

Tina hid behind Freddy, peeking out from his arm. Mofo raised his shovel in preparation. The footsteps got louder, until the source of the footsteps came into view, and the group's eyes uniformly widened in shock...


End file.
